


The Savior and the Fallen

by blondinator



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, F/M, M/M, Magical Realism, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:11:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blondinator/pseuds/blondinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the world in ruins, all hope is placed in a few gifted individuals willing to use their powers to fight for peace. With the secrets of their broken pasts unfolding and the weight of their fears taking a toll, it becomes more than just a war. It becomes a fight to stay in control. Modern AU. Levi/Eren with many secondary pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fallen

The streets feel abnormally quiet as two men sit in a blue minivan, knowing that today will be the last day that they’ll have to drive this wretched vehicle around this backwards city. They won’t have to listen to anymore of the locals’ whispered speculation on why two foreign men would want to live in a small, run down cottage in the middle of nowhere. They’ll no longer have to deal with their neighbors trying to set the two men up with their daughters, or the lectures they got from local clergy men, trying to convince them that men their age should be settled and how their living situation is frowned upon. They’d given up on trying to convince everyone they were just business associates a long time ago, right around the time they had stopped believing it themselves.

“Do you feel anything?” Jean asks as his hands clench the steering wheel in front of him, even though the minivan is in park. He has to glance without secrecy to gauge his companion’s reaction. With Marco sitting to his right and only slight visibility in his right eye, it’s hard for the man to sneak any small peek, hard for him to read the emotions floating around this wretched van. He’s only in tune with his own anxiety as the moments tick by.

“Jean, you shouldn’t be asking me that,” Marco breathes.

Gone are the days when the air around them was formal. For months they had called each other by their last names, tip toeing around their shared cottage. It had taken pushing and shoving before either man could even acquiesce to some semblance of friendship. They came into this job thinking that’d be the hard part. A job was just a job; the only factor that made this one any different was their living arrangements. The only problem in their minds, at that time, was how they could possibly learn to cohabitate for a full year. They only wondered when the unbearable awkwardness between strangers would end and how long it’d take for the atmosphere between them to turn amiable.

Neither one of them were prepared for this sort of hesitation. The two of them were chosen because of their impeccable abilities and their lack of hesitation during each job they’re given. They didn’t differentiate between gender, race, or age. For a while, it seemed that they lacked the ability to feel anything at all. Their boss considered that trait to be valuable beyond words. In a business where the suicide rate was high and the jobs required a stable mental state—it was rare to find two individuals so perfectly suited for this kind of job. Jean now wondered if his boss was ever right about them. If he ever wanted him to be.

“We saved this kid’s life and now we’re going to end it.”

“Jean, it’s our job. It’s why we came here in the first place. We were following orders.”

“Listen to what you’re saying. We aren’t little dancing toys that can be wound up and thrown around.”

“If the boss hadn’t told us to, if we had just been walking along that bridge minding our own business not knowing who that kid was, would you have jumped in after him? Would he have been important enough, at that point in your life, to risk your neck?” Marco looks away as if he regrets asking this. He didn’t like hurting Jean with these kinds of accusations.

Said man looks less than pleased by the implication, only enhancing his partner’s regret. “I’d like to think I would’ve done something but that’s beside the point. I’m saying that now it’s different; now _I’m_ different, and you are too—don’t deny it!”

Marco hunches forward in that frustrated sort of way that Jean has grown to understand. He’s always seen his companion as a good man that’s done bad things. He follows orders and he keeps promises, even if those orders and those promises are horrifying. He isn’t a man lacking in integrity, simply a man that’s strayed too far from the path to go back now. Jean relates to that.

“I understand. Jean, _I understand._ You and I _are_ different now. And what we talked about before, about this being our last job, I’m willing to make that promise with you. We’ll take our money and live somewhere far from the boss’s reach: preferably somewhere with more city and less cows. This job, however, must be done first. We can’t abandon what we originally came here to do.” _Not if we want to make it out alive. Together._

Jean knows, deep down, there’s no other way. They can leave once it’s done and never look back. Leaving the kid alive would only gain a hit on their heads and a life of always looking over their shoulders. Their quiet lives would never be able to exist in that type of world and Jean isn’t sure he can handle the thought of coming home one day to find Marco’s body parts scattered across their carpet. The paranoia alone would be enough to finish him off. He briefly recalls the days when he lived life thinking he had nothing left to lose. It feels so foreign to him now.

“He’s coming,” Jean whispers, gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.

Marco breathes through his nose, carefully prying each finger off, whispering small reassurances, wondering when he became this good at reading the man next to him. He places his hand on top of Jean’s, trying to get the man to look only at his face as his other hand grabs their guns from the glove department. “We should live in Asia.”

This statement has the power to calm Jean’s worries, knowing he had something to look forward to.

The boy passes their minivan and they both know that’s their signal to exit the car. They know his weakness; they know a surprise attack will work. After a little over a year of watching this kid day in and day out, now is the time to do their job, to end it. Both Jean and Marco lift their guns and pull the triggers.

 

\----oOo----

 

**The Savior and the fallen**

 

_One year prior_

 

A boy is hurriedly running towards his home, trudging through thick snow as his legs ache and the blistering cold makes his entire body go numb. He’s gotten used to these conditions over the years. He knows, without a doubt, that living through these harsh snow storms, however hard it may be, is infinitely better than being confined indoors to live out his days. The memory almost makes him sick to his stomach. Even the mere remembrance of his childhood is enough to send him running out into the middle of a blizzard; just so he could feel the outside world all around him.

Only one thing made those years bearable. The very same thing that had him rushing through the village in overwhelming excitement. So many years have passed since he’s felt this type of thrill, where he could run through windy pathways with such alacrity, a large smile plastered across his lit up features. His surroundings almost feel surreal, like the world is widening all around him, like the harsh and unforgiving winter storm will suddenly come to a halt and usher a beautiful spring into this world. Eren knows better by now, but he still couldn’t help the feeling; letting his emotions engulf his body and to an even greater extent: his better judgment and his assessments of the surroundings.

This is when seventeen year old Eren Jaeger loses his footing in the heavy snowfall, effectually falling face first, all because of his inability to contain his blinding excitement. It’s something he’s been scolded for over the years, still unable to reign in his emotions when the situation became too overwhelming. The people in his village said he lacked self-control in this department; he’s guided too deeply by happiness and anger and all the things that render human beings useless when it overpowers their ability to make calculated decisions. Every instructor he’s had over the years has come to the same conclusion during their training and observation: the boy is too rash.

It’s because of this that Eren looks up to find his long-time friend Ymir standing over him with an expression saying that she isn’t the least bit surprised to find him clumsily trying to pick himself up out of yet another mess. Ever since he arrived in her village ten years ago, she’d watched him take tumble after tumble. He had successfully broken most of the bones in his body over the years, which seemed excessive to Ymir, even for a klutz like Eren. Considering the incredibly small size of their enclosed village they lived in, she really couldn’t imagine how one boy managed to find so many ways to nearly maim himself on a daily basis. If it wasn’t for her father’s abilities, she doubted the teen would ever live a life outside the hospital room.

Yet, despite all of his forthcomings, Eren Jaeger continued to get back on his feet time and time again.

“Need some help there?” The taller girl holds her hand out as Eren struggles against a hardened, icy patch of snow, not yet covered by a fresh batch.

The boy chooses to decline, at first, before pushing himself up and then successfully face-planting a second time. He doesn’t need to look up to see the smug expression on her face as he grabs a hold her hand. She remarks, “You know, maybe if you took help more often you wouldn’t constantly be ending up in these kinds of situations. Remember when the older kids purposely threw your ball up into a tree a couple years ago, and Krista—who’s a much better climber than you—offered to help, but you had to act all high and mighty and climb up there yourself? You broke three bones that day, took my father over a week to help heal your wounds.”

“It’s hard to forget when the two of you keep reminding me,” Eren says bitterly, trying not to let his momentary humiliation ruin his overall excitement. Once he’s brought back to his feet, the boy takes a second to rummage through the knapsack he’s carrying; making certain his most prized possession is still present and not accidentally buried under a foot of snow (which would cause mass panic). His hand touches the worn edges without pulling it out, knowing that Ymir would only tease him even further for his little obsession. Only after that slight confirmation does he begin to walk, though this time it’s with less haste and more awareness of the steps he takes.

“Today’s the day,” she remarks, looking towards the main gate where many new faces can be spotted being welcomed by the villagers. Most of the children are gathered outside, looking on in amazement. “Do you think we’ll be put by the ocean? Krista won’t stop talking about wanting to walk along a beach. She’s been pulling out pictures of various beaches to keep them posted around her room. She’s obsessed.”

“Who knows?” Eren smiles, his green eyes betraying his immense anticipation. “I guess we all hope it’s some place warm. You know…I once heard rumors that they send new recruits to a deserted island. Think that’s true?”

“You know not to listen to those rumors," Ymir scolds, shaking her head. "The people that say those things have probably never even been to the training camp.”

“Yeah, I know, but wouldn’t it be great if it were true?” Eren spots a head of blonde hair not far ahead of them, waving the two of them over. Truthfully, he couldn’t care less where the camp is located. It’d be nice not to have to live through another Siberian winter, but he didn’t put as much focus on the location as Ymir and Krista did. His excitement comes from the inhabitants of this mysterious training camp.

“It would be pretty sweet, I admit. This is my home, and even I’m sick of the never-ending snow. How cruel would it be, though, if the camp ends up being in the middle of Antarctica?”

Eren blanches, figuring, _okay_ , he has some preference in where they’re going. Anywhere that he didn’t have to risk freezing to death is suitable in his mind. “Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it.”

“No, but think about it!” The girl kicks a fresh pile of snow around as Krista waits for the two of them, watching on quizzically as the edges of Ymir’s voice reaches her. “I mean, they moved you and Krista here because this village is isolated as all hell. Christ, we even have a giant _wall_ surrounding our village to keep outsiders from coming in without my father’s permission. Nobody’s looking here. Nobody wants to look here. It would only make sense to put the training camp in the middle of Antarctica! Like any of the Titans would travel that far. Most of them are a bunch of wussies.”

“Ymir!” Krista yells, launching into what looked to be yet another scolding session as the three of them join up. “Please stop saying we’re going to Antarctica. I’ll have nightmares.”

“I’m just saying that it’s just as likely as ending up on a deserted island.”

The shorter girl proceeds to smack Ymir’s heavy coat with a warning glare, knowing that her hand probably did little to no damage against her friend’s many layers. Though she didn’t look threatening (and, in fact, came off as timid to most people), Ymir always held respect for Krista’s words. She only ever teased the blonde half-heartedly. The two of them shared a bond that Eren had trouble comprehending, always only ever observing when they seemed to have some form of silent communication limited to just the two of them. Though Krista Renz had only been here for the quarter of the time that Eren has, she seemed to have no trouble worming her way into Ymir’s life. “Remember what your father always says: negative thinking provokes a negative outcome. All the three of us need to do is imagine white sand and clear, blue waters. Have the two of you been meditating with this image like I asked?”

Eren sheepishly scratches the back of his head and Ymir snorts. “You’ve been hanging around my old man too much again.”

“Maybe if the two of you listened to him more, you’d have a better control on your powers.” This statement has the power to make both Ymir and Eren stiffen. Both of them know the smaller girl’s skills far exceed their own. Neither of them is happy about it.

Unlike Ymir, Eren decides not to let this statement change his mood, trying desperately to hold onto that excitement he had harnessed before his unfortunate tumble. Ymir’s right: today’s the day. They’re finally old enough to be ushered away to basic training; they’re one step closer to finally joining an elite team they were born to be a part of. For Ymir and Krista, this meant a chance to fight back. Everything they’ve been taught over the years has led up to this day. For Eren, however, this meant only one thing.

_Levi._

Ymir’s father calls out to both her and Krista with their bags in hand, while Eren quickly sprints into his home to gather the few things he had deemed worthy to pack. Ymir’s father, Mr. Volokov, looks at the three teenagers with both a sense of pride and worry, seemingly unsure how to face the situation head on. As leader of this small village, as well as Ymir’s father and the sole father figure to both Eren and Krista over the years, the man has taken on a significant amount of responsibility in his life. He’s passed on what he’s learned, trying to prepare the three of them for the training they’re about to endure and the war they’re about to fight. Though he is a man of composed emotions, his eyes are what betray the tiniest doubt floating at the back of his mind. Eren will look up at him in his state of exhaustion after running to get his suitcase, only to find a man riddled with the glimmer of fear, of failure. After all of the years he had tried to instil in them the very fact that fear is a human’s greatest downfall but not even he can suppress his doubt when faced with their departure.

“The three of you must hurry towards the front gate. Commander Erwin Smith and his men are waiting to escort you to the training camp.”

Eren looks up, clutching his suitcase tightly to his chest, his green eyes searching the crowd of soldiers wildly. Ever since the bells started chiming this morning, alerting the village to outside visitors, he’s had the words sitting at the tip of his tongue. “Do you know if a man named Levi is among the soldiers?”

Mr. Volokov ushers the kids towards the front gate, glancing at Eren with one eyebrow raised. “Do you mean Master Levi Labelle?”

_Master_ , Eren thinks, almost wanting to laugh. How strange it is to hear such a title, watching the way the expression on Ymir’s father’s face turns to respect the second Levi’s name leaves his lips. He mentioned the name to a passing soldier once, and recalls getting a similar reaction. Things must have changed quite a bit in the last ten years. “Yes. I’ve heard that he’s a soldier now and that he fights for the cause.”

Both Ymir and Krista glance at Eren from the corner of their eyes. The blonde bites down on her lip with worry, while Ymir shakes her head and sighs. They’ve heard enough about this man named Levi over the years to understand Eren’s anxiety and anticipation.

“You can ask Commander Smith," Mr Volokov assures, "but it’s my understanding that Master Labelle is one of the head instructors at the training camp. It isn’t likely he’d take time away from that to do a simple escort operation.”

Eren does little to hide his disappointment, swayed too openly by his emotions to hide the parts of himself that feel raw and painful. He knows it’ll only be a few days’ time before they reach the training camp—or, at least, he hoped, being left unaware of its location. Whether it be days or weeks, at least it isn’t years. Soon he’d begin to see all of the faces from his childhood.

When they reach the main gate the three teens are met with a line of soldiers greeting them. At the head of the group is Commander Erwin Smith, wasting no time on anything other than a ‘hello’ before jumping into debriefing. The three of them feel oddly compliant as they listen and despite their ages, immediately standing up straight with their arms at their sides, realizing, without a second thought, that this man commanded their respect. Even the gathered villagers have gone silent as his voice rings out. “More than 35 years ago a group called the ‘Titans’ began to rise to power with the intent of giving the power back to the people. They claimed themselves above the laws of human kind, parading themselves as saviors and rallying the people. Underneath it all they were nothing more than terrorists, _thugs_. They didn’t want to follows the rules of society, so they gladly tore society apart. All over the world, civil wars broke out, brother against brother, fighting a war they didn’t entirely understand, leaving many parts of the world in ruins.

“Many attempts have been made to bring the Titans down over the years. However, the resistance discovered many years ago that at the core of the titans there is a secret elite team with the power to control their opponent’s movements and are able to heal any wound they receive that isn’t directly fatal, bringing failure for any attempts at tearing the highest ranking members of the group down. Because of this, because of the many good soldiers lost over the years, our only alternative was to seek out others with this gift willing to fight for the resistance.”

Krista grabs both Eren’s and Ymir’s hands, clutching them tight as the Commander walks back and forth. Each of them can see how this man had risen to his rank. “You three are among those with this gift.”

All eyes are on them as Commander Smith stops to address them directly. Eren feels as if he wants to smile, knowing everything it’s taken to lead up to this point in his life. Ymir can’t help but look over at her father, who’s now solely filled with pride. Krista looks as if she’s about to fall over onto the snow, not used to garnering so much attention. The three of them didn’t look like soldiers, but they sure as hell look like they’re ready to try.

“Eren Jaeger, Ymir Volokov, Krista Lenz. Do the three of you agree to pledge allegiance to the resistance?”

Both Eren and Ymir nod, while Krista lets out a high pitched ‘yes sir’, trying not to let her anxiety get the better of her as their whole village scrutinizes them. After their confirmation, Commander Smith actually breaks out into a soft smile, saluting the three teens and thanking them for their bravery. Most of the people in their village come to congratulate them after this, sending the three of them well wishes and luck for their journey. It may be years before they’ll able to return. Eren feels a strange jolt of pain, realizing he’ll miss this place. However suffocating the walls or low the temperature drops—it’s still been his home for the last ten years. Maybe, one day, he’ll return a man, telling the villagers stories of his travels around the world, just as the soldiers that had come in over the years had done for him. It’s time for Eren Jaeger to start a new chapter in his life.

Commander Smith signals his men to prep the horses, making small talk on the side as excited villagers hammer him with questions of the outside world. They live in complete isolation with no modern technology and very little idea of the length of devastation and bloodshed that went on outside of the walls they had built. This village is one of the few places left untouched by the war. Mr. Volokov has worked hard to keep his home under the radar and his daughter safe from being ripped from their family. Very few ever made it to the age where they can choose to go to a training camp for the resistance.

A group of children surround the three teenagers, eyes wide with wonder and excitement. One boy smiles at the trio, showing his missing baby teeth. He jubilantly asks, “So you guys are going to fight the Titans?”

Eren can’t help but indulge this kid, remembering the days when he’d picture himself fighting for their freedom. _Fighting alongside Levi…_ The picture’s never really left. It’s only become more tangible.

“That’s right.” He gets down on one knee, ruffling the little boy’s hair before leaning into the group of children. “Can you guys keep a secret?”

“Yes!” The main boy shouts a bit too loudly. Everybody in the group nods, jumping up and down with excitement.

Eren grins, looking up at Ymir (who didn’t seem all that amused by children) and Krista (who seemed much too amused by their excitement). “We’re going to a top secret camp to train, all so we can defeat the bad guys. Want to see the kinds of things we’ll learn?”

Again, he’s met with unfiltered enthusiasm. This time, however, Ymir shakes her head as a warning, glancing over to make sure everybody’s attention is still focused on the soldiers. “Eren, the old man will get angry if he sees that you’re using your powers to show off again.”

Eren doesn’t head this warning, feeding too heavily off of the raw, powerful energy emanating from the innocent essence of the children in front of him. It makes his body feel electrified.

Neither Ymir nor Krista comment any further as Eren’s hands begin to sway back and forth, led by the heavy emotions surrounding him. He’s able to channel the children’s feelings, as well as his own, to create a small ball of energy, hosting a spectrum of colors and light. Krista may be farther along in her training, but only Eren has the power to control energy in such a beautiful and powerful way. Mr. Volokov once told the three of them, in the past, that he’s only ever seen one other person control energy the way Eren does. He told them it’s powerful, but that it’s also dangerous. It relied too heavily on a remarkable balance of emotions. Any small slip could plunge Eren into a dark void he couldn’t come back from. One day he could turn into a completely different person.

This is what kept the two girls on edge as the children jump around, beyond captivated by this small ball of energy. They’re only able to relax when Eren lets his hold on the energy slowly fade, turning the ball into nothing more than a puff of air. They’ll never be used to the fear, watching Eren choose to walk a thin line of control. Nothing in this world comes without risk.

One of the soldiers comes up to the three teens, prompting Eren to get back on his feet. He gestures to a few other men to bring their horses over. “Are the three of you ready to depart? It’s going to be a long—” The man is never able to finish his sentence.

The sound of a gun being fired rings out.

For a long moment the man stands motionless. His expression turned to one of surprise, it slowly morphs into one of resigned defeat as blood drips from his forehead. His eyes lose focus and his body goes slack as he slumps forward. Red stains and taints the pure white snow, surrounding the head of this one nameless soldier and all the while the three teens and four children are staring on in horror. For one quiet second, nobody in the village can comprehend what just happened.

Commander Smith’s voice is the only one with clarity. “We have spies among our ranks!” Eren is almost amazed by how quickly a seemingly controlled situation can turn into chaos. Cheers of joy instantaneously turn to cries of fear, laughter turns to gunshots, and the overwhelming confusion of the situation only leads to an unclear target. Villagers scatter, unsure of which soldiers are legitimate, and which are titan spies aiming to do them harm. Even Erwin Smith seems unsure of who he’s fighting.

The three teens have very little time to think as one of the soldiers aims his weapon at them. Ymir and Krista both move forward to bend the man’s energy, stopping him just before he pulls the trigger. It takes all of their strength to control the man’s body, manipulating him so he’s lifted off the ground, before throwing him through the air. They had very little practice with human opponents over the years; both of them know they can’t keep this up for long.

Meanwhile, Eren had taken to protecting the children, creating a barrier of glowing energy around them. He yells for Ymir and Krista to follow as he ushers the kids to a nearby home. Without this protection, bullets would already be raining down upon them. Shots came from all angles. Their village quickly becoming a war zone.

Eren is unable to help his two friends, however, as a man suddenly appears, looking at the two girls with soulless, dark eyes, and an eerie smirk plastered amongst his smug features. Everything about this man sends chills down the teen’s spine as he blocks the children from view. He can feel the sudden presence of a powerful energy all around them, originating from this single man before them. Judging by the wide-eyed looks from Ymir and Krista, Eren’s willing to bet they can feel it, too. _This man can bend energy._ Everything about him screams danger.

“Excuse me, little girls, can one of you point me in the direction of Eren Jaeger?”

Eren stands by the doorway of a nearby house, watching on in horror. His green eyes widened as his name left the man’s mouth. Ymir, on the other hand, didn’t show an ounce of emotion as she calmly faces the man, only moving to inch Krista just the slightest bit behind her. “Who are you?”

The man sighs, flicking his wrist in a way that seems to send Ymir into a great amount of pain. Her body twists and convulses as the man moves her around like a marionette on a string. With just a slight movement, he can easily break every bone in her body. “I don’t believe that’s the answer I asked for.”

Krista can’t stop herself from moving as Ymir’s no longer able to hold back a piercing cry of pain. It only takes seconds for the taller girl’s strong façade to crack as she falls and writhes in the snow. She doesn’t plead, though. She doesn’t give in, doesn’t point in Eren’s direction or beg the man to spare her life. She merely holds back her screaming long enough to urge her friends to safety. “ _Krista!_ Go with Eren and run!”

The man’s focus loosens just the slightest as he gains interest in her words, effectually removing his grip from her twisted body. “Where is Eren? I’d like to talk with him.”

Krista, seeing his attention shift and his grip on Ymir gone, decides to take advantage of his momentary loss of concentration by lunging forward, channelling the determination flowing through her energy. Both Eren and Ymir watch, however, as the man smirks in her direction, blocking her energy with little effort. His attention is now focused solely on the tiny blonde as he forces her body down to the snow. “You really should’ve listened to your little girlfriend.”

“No!” Ymir screams, sounding more pained by watching Krista in his grasp than when the taller girl herself was being tortured. “You let her go, asshole! _Mu'dak!_ ”

“Quiet or I’ll snap her neck.” Ymir seems to understand she is in no position spew any belligerence at the man standing over her best friend. Her jaw clenches and flexes, trying to hold herself back when he lifts his boot up to place it on Krista’s ribs, making sure the heel effectively digs into her thick coat. “You know, you kids sure live in a dump. The more snow I see, the more I begin to remember why I’ve never made it a big deal to visit Russia. Next time you kids should hide in the Bahamas.”

Mr. Volokov always went into detail on how frail the human body can be. Every limb can be torn apart; every bone can be smashed to pieces. Pain can block their abilities and stop them in their tracks. Pain is what leads to fear, and fear is what can consume both body and soul. This man seems to relish in this idea, seems to feed off both their pain and fear as he digs his boot into the blonde’s ribs. His eyes betray nothing as he looks down at her crumpled form, only a sick sense of high self-worth. He shows no remorse. Both Eren and Ymir can see this man looking down on Krista like she should know her place. Like her body belonged in the snow, kept under the control of his heavy, black boot.

Eren whispers to the four children, telling them to get inside as he prepares himself to step forward. The tiny blonde lets out a piercing scream as the man crushes her, intent on breaking each and every rib in her body until he gets some answers. Eren can’t help but think of the words spoken to him as a young child. He remembers Levi’s face, barely illuminated by the light of a slowly dimming candle. He can still picture those pained eyes as they stared at the small flame, as if he wanted so desperately to let everything within himself break free, and yet the better part of himself fought so hard to keep it all repressed. A young Eren had reached his hand out to this crumpled Levi, unsure of anything but a feeling that compelled him to comfort. Levi looked away from the young boy in front of him, as if he was unable to meet such honest and endearing eyes. _I hope you never have to learn the cruelties that people are capable of, Eren, because when that day comes: nothing will be left standing. Everything will look so weak in comparison._

With the guns firing and his friends left helpless, Eren Jaeger takes an intrepid step forward. He alerts the man to his presence with the formation of a glowing ball of energy, shooting it forward to hit his left arm, causing the man to jump back with a yelp.

He turns to face the teen, recovering quite quickly as he realizes this is the boy he’s been looking for. “Found ya’.” The man grins as he dodges another one of Eren’s attacks, watching the boy lose his composure with every missed shot. “Now, Eren, as a guest in this humble hole in the wall village: I’d just like to point out how unwelcoming you and your friends have been.”

Both Eren and the man step forward, each ready to fight. Ymir is already by Krista’s side, comforting the aching girl as she screams that one of her ribs are broken, only serving to further Eren’s sudden jolt of anger towards this unknown man. This is wrong and he knows it. This man is baiting him, making certain that he gets the better of Eren’s emotions. He must have come into this knowing he could get to the teenage boy through his friends. He knew he could bring it down to a one on one fight in a matter of minutes. Yet, even with this rational side of Eren urging to keep his head cooled and his emotions in check, there’s still a large part of him that can’t help but feed right into his anger. His actions are rash and uncalculated against a man that seems to possess years of experience.

It only takes a voice to stop a battle Eren’s sure he’ll lose. It only takes one word cutting through the bullets and screams. All it takes is a name. “Oluo!”

It’s awhile before the three teens realize it’s the man’s name, judging by the way his shoulders tense and his head swivels around searching for the person that had called it out. Eren also notes the drop of the man’s smug smirk, figuring this man named ‘Oluo’ probably has an idea as to who this voice belongs to. “I wasn’t informed you’d be coming.”

A female steps out into the open, putting herself between the three teens and their attacker. Eren’s eyes grow impossibly wide with recognition. “Commander Smith had a feeling there might be Titans among his ranks. My arrival here was to be a secret, just in case we needed an upper hand.”

“Petra, you were always one to think ahead.”

Said woman smiles while still retaining her defensive position. She tucks a couple stray ginger hairs behind her ear in a casual sort of way, as if this were just a conversation among friends. “I recall you once saying that was one of my redeeming qualities. I remember because I considered that a big deal at the time. You were such a self-centred asshole, even a small compliment like that felt like high praise.”

“Well, time makes a fool of us all.”

“Not really,” Petra replies, still keeping her soft smile. “You’re still a self-centred asshole.”

Oluo laughs, furthering the strange atmosphere filled with small talk, while their bodies remained ready for a fight. “And you’re still a pain in my ass.”

“What, are you still mad about that one time I beat the crap out of you?”

His expression finally falters as he begins to regard his opponent with annoyance. Oluo’s smirk is long gone as his jaw tightens, eyeing Petra carefully. “You’ve always been good, I’ll give you that, but you’ll never quite be the best. Besides, I’ve become a lot stronger since the last time you and I fought. You’re delusional if you think you can still block the flow of my energy.”

Petra puts her hand on her hip, undeterred by his words. Her expression didn’t betray an ounce of fear. “Levi Labelle seems to think otherwise. He told me before I left that he’s certain I can take you.”

“Oh? Still hanging around that stick in the mud, I see.”

“Mm-hm. He also told me about the run in you two had a few years ago. I wonder if you ever were able to heal that large wound across your back? From the sounds of it, I’m guessing probably not.”

This last statement causes Oluo’s composure to break. The man rushes forward as he calls out to several soldiers for back up. He engages Petra in hand to hand combat as several soldiers heed his call within minutes. The two jump across the heavy snow in a flurry of fists, Petra using her smaller build to her advantage with speed. It is clear Oluo isn’t confident enough to use his powers. Fear is written all over his face, screaming his doubt. The fight to stay in control is essential. Lacking in confidence only secured defeat.

Unfortunately, it quickly becomes clear to Eren that Petra is outnumbered. No matter how good she is, there’s no way she can deflect bullets from all angles while still keeping her focus on Oluo. The soldier’s lift their weapons and prepare to fire, causing Eren’s stomach to plunge and both Ymir and Krista to cry out. This is where Eren makes a rash decision. This is where he loses control.

 

\----oOo----

 

Days are lost in the light.

Eren Jaeger feels himself falling even further into the darkness.

 

\----oOo----

 

“What is your name?” The question hits him like a speeding train; his green eyes blink several times, as if he’s trying to figure out whether or not he’s dreaming. Light is filtering in through a pair of windows, hitting the teen’s face just right as he looks at the woman in front of him. She has ginger hair and golden eyes, regarding the boy in front of her with a soft, caring expression. Her face is barely visible from the side of the van she’s sitting on, yet still Eren can make out the prominent scars littering the left half of her beautiful face. The teen remembers fire and puts it together with her scars. _Petra Ral_.

His voice catches up to him at last, reminding his lips that a question was asked. “Eren Jaeger?”

His answer is met with shock as Petra swiftly moves to turn a light on. Green eyes finally spot Ymir sitting on the other side of the van. She too seems shocked by his answers, gently shaking Krista next to her, urging the blonde to wake up. They all simultaneously move towards the confused boy as he looks between their faces. The only person in the back of this strange van that didn’t move was Commander Smith, who looked to be out cold.

“Eren?” Ymir asks cautiously, inching forward.

“Why does everyone look so surprised?” He looks around their vehicle, trying desperately to recall the last thing he remembers. He remembers the guns rising and then…nothing. Everything after that is blank. Panic starts to set in. “Where are we? And what happened?”

All three females in front of him look both relieved and elated. He’s beginning to have a breakdown and they didn’t seem all that concerned. Krista rushes forward and throws her arms around Eren, despite her apparent injuries. “Oh, thank god!”

“I can’t remember anything! Can somebody _please_ explain what happened?” He remembers giving into his powers. He remembers letting go. He remembers the emptiness building deep within him, swallowing him whole.

“Calm down, Eren,” Petra says. Ymir also pries Krista away from the boy, urging the blonde to give him some room to breathe. “You created an energy field around all of us just as the soldiers fired. It was incredible; I’ve never seen a power quite like it. You even blew old high and mighty Oluo away. Nobody was able to attack us; you were throwing energy left and right. It’s like something in you kicked in, an instinct to protect your friends. I admire that.” The gingered haired woman smiles, pulling the skin on the scarred side of her face taut as she continues to regard him warmly.

Krista’s face, however, is filled to the brim with worry. “But you…” She trails off, not quite sure how to put her concern into words.

Ymir lends her a helping hand, “You were gone.”

“Gone?”

Petra nods, pushing some of his brown hair behind one of his ears in a motherly sort of way. “You took all of the soldiers out and protected us, and then you passed out. The next time you woke up, all you did was stare off into space. We’d talk to you, but you wouldn’t talk back. We tried to feed you, but you wouldn’t eat. This has been going on for the last few days, and if we didn’t force water down your throat, you probably would’ve just collapsed. You were gone, kid, and that alone was scary enough. But…then it got worse.”

Eren places his head in his hands, fearing what she had to say next. “Worse?”

“Yeah. You started having random fits of emotions. One second you’d be screaming with untouched rage, and the next you’d be sobbing uncontrollably. Sometimes, you’d even just start laughing out of nowhere. Nothing we did could get through to you. We kept asking you over and over what your name was, but you’d just ignore the questions. It’s like nothing really registered until a couple minutes ago. I was afraid you weren’t coming back, kid. Don’t scare me like that.” Petra leans forward to envelop the teen in a hug, humming into his hair the same way he remembers she used to do when he was a kid. When he thinks about what a mother is like: Petra’s face is always the first thing to pop up in his mind. Nothing else existed to fill that particular role. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

He carefully winds his arms around her back, reliving old memories. “Thanks, Petra. It’s really good to see you again.”

Both Ymir and Krista watch on with raised eyebrows, interrupting the sweet moment with inquiries. “You two know each other?”

Petra breaks out into a huge grin as she ruffles Eren’s hair with an enthusiastic nod. “Believe it or not: I changed this kid’s diapers.”

“Are you two related?”

“Oh, no, not by blood, anyways.” The ginger haired woman puts her arm around Eren’s shoulders, pulling him close. “He’s like the little brother I’ve always wanted, though. You wouldn’t believe how sweet he looked when he was a kid!”

Eren looked at his two friends, explaining, “Before I came to our village, back when I was hiding out in Germany, Petra used to come to visit a week out of each month.” All sorts of memories flooded his brain. He pictured Petra standing in front of him, attempting to teach him some German words. He remembers her bursting into the kitchen, announcing that she’d make a huge dinner each and every time she came to visit. He remembers the few times that she nearly burned the kitchen down. He remembers the disastrous German dates she sometimes brought back that could barely speak a lick of English, merely nodding their heads at her broken German. He remembers the cold winter nights when he would fall asleep curled up between her and Levi…

“So, how excited are you to see Armin and Mikasa again?” Petra asks, still keeping the boy close. Similarly, Ymir lets Krista lay her head on the older girl’s lap, significantly more protective after what happened during their departure.

Eren feels a pang of guilt when he realizes he hasn’t even thought of the fact that he’ll see his two friends again. “Yeah, Mr. Volokov mentioned they’d be there, too. I’m excited." Eren offers a genuine smile. "It’s been so long.”

Both of them had stayed with him in Germany during his last two years there. The two of them were as much his friends as Ymir and Krista. Despite what happened, his excitement begins to build again. So many faces from his childhood were placed into the back of his mind when he arrived in Russia. Only one felt ever present; only one plagued his dreams each night.

“But you’re most excited to see Levi, right?” Eren turns his head to look at Petra, trying but failing to wipe the embarrassment off of his face as she grins knowingly. She reaches over to pull a folded up picture from her pocket, placing it in his hand as evidence to support her assumption. “This picture fell out of your pocket when we were hauling you off in your catatonic state. Luckily, Mr. Volokov noticed it as he was saying his goodbyes when we made our escape. He said, and I _quote_ : ‘this is Eren’s most valued possession. Please don’t lose this photograph.’ Imagine my surprise when I unfolded it. I completely remember taking this picture!”

Eren looks down at the picture in question, swiping his thumb over the crinkles and folds. Over time it’s become worn down. He used to have it taped on the wall next to his bed, but eventually he started keeping it on his person at all times. He’s memorized every detail and every imperfection. He’s all too familiar with the image of himself at five years old, smiling bright for the camera, despite one of his front teeth being absent, adorned in a pair of blue pajamas. Levi is crouched behind him in a black turtle neck sweater, his arms circled around Eren’s waist somewhat protectively.

The one thing that always stood out about this picture was the expression on Levi’s face. His smile is small and guarded; the corners of his lips are barely lifted enough to make any sort of impression. His eyes shone with excitement, but his expression pulled him back, ever cautious. Eren spent many nights over the last ten years, lying awake, wondering what was going through Levi’s brain at that exact moment in time.

It’s almost overwhelming to think that the person in this photograph will be with him soon, and no longer just an image in his head he’s replayed over and over throughout the last decade. Adding to this that he’ll get to see Armin and Mikasa soon and Eren felt he had to change the subject just to keep himself calm. Otherwise, he might just start bouncing around the back of this van like an impatient child. “What happened to Commander Erwin?”

Petra nodded towards the sleeping man, her face shifting into something unreadable. It’s the first time since he’s come back to the conscious world that her expression is anything less than composed and light. “He’s been shot in the leg. Even then, he helped us carry you off. Once we reach the training camp, the people in the infirmly will help him. The best I was able to do was bandage his leg and sooth his energy so he was able to get some sleep. He must be in an incredible amount of pain.”  
“How did the Titans know where to find us? Who was that man that attacked us?” All three pairs of teenage eyes are on Petra. Each one of them wondered how a simple escort operation could have gone so wrong. With Commander Smith shot, Krista injured, Eren just coming back from a large misuse of power and half their village left in ruins. These questions burned in their minds.

The woman in front of them sighs, releasing Eren from her hold to address all three of them equally. In this moment, Petra Ral looks tired and drained. “I was sent in secret by Levi Labelle to keep an eye on this escort operation. The only other person that knew about my involvement was Commander Erwin Smith. Both he and Levi suspected there might be Titan spies, even among Erwin’s most elite team. Unfortunately, our fears turned out to be more than just a fair amount of paranoia. I should’ve known. Levi’s gut feelings are usually correct.” Her gold eyes look past the three teenagers, as if she were remembering something important. “That man’s name is Oluo Bozado and he is second in command of the Titans. He and I trained together for the resistance, until Oluo turned against us. He’s…dangerous, to say the least.”

Ymir looks down at Krista, while Petra glances at Commander Smith. Their fear is no longer hidden. It’s loud and evident. The task of protecting someone else is not one many can handle. While in the middle of a destructive war, however, it’s often something they can’t avoid.

 

\----oOo----

 

The van comes to an abrupt stop many hours later, jostling around the five passengers being kept hidden in the back. Petra announces that they’ve finally made it and Ymir and Krista break into an excited conversation about where they might be. Eren doesn’t care, doesn’t even take the time to question as the doors are flung open and the sunlight finally comes flooding in. His first instinct is to rush forward and enter the building in front of him.

“Wait, Eren! Levi’s teaching right now!” Petra’s voice is lost on him, only focusing on his main objective as he sprints through the building, causing anybody nearby to watch on in confusion. He lets his gut guide him, to fill him up with warmth, being led in the direction of one particular classroom. He flings the door open and stops in his tracks, in shock, panting heavily.

A familiar face stares back, equally as shocked.

“ _Levi._ ”


	2. The Savior

**Chapter Two**

 

Jean Kirstein is leaned up against a brick wall with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, taking long, drawn out drags, in light of the fact that soon he probably won’t be smoking his favorite brand in a while. He isn’t even sure if there’ll _be_ any tobacco where he’s going and there’s a good chance he could end up on a farm in the middle of nowhere, raising little baby piglets while polishing his lucky gun to pass the time. What a joke _that’d_ be, having spent his whole life being raised to be streetwise, only to end up in the middle of the countryside for a whole goddamn year. This is the only second he hesitates, wondering if he’s really the best man for the job. This sounds like a job for the titans who trained many years in the art of gathering intelligence on the resistance, not for two hit men who pledged their services to the highest bidder.

Jean never wanted to get mixed up in the Titan’s business in the first place. In all honestly the core members of the group left him shaken (and this is something he’s only able to admit to himself). He considers himself a man with very little to fear. His temper often leaves him a tick too rash, but his gun brings clarity. Very few people ever got the best of him in this ability. One second they’d be aiming a pistol right between his eyes, and the next they’d be on the ground with a hole through their skull. If there’s anything Jean’s learned during his life, it’s that these moments leave little room for hesitation. You either pull the trigger or you’re dead. There’s no in between.

The Titans on the other hand don’t play by the same rules.

They have the power to break every bone in his body and make him suffer until his last breath. They’re impossibly fast and can stop his bullets from ever reaching them. Even if (and it’s a big _if_ ) they’re shot they can heal their wounds faster than he can reload. There is no winning with these guys. They control territories all over the world, whole cities taken over at their behest. They’re ruthless and there’s no room for hesitation. No room for fighting, either. There’s only compliance and defeat.

“Jean Kirstein,” a voice calls, causing Jean to straighten up and throw his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with his shoe.

The door to a heavily guarded mansion finally opens up, revealing a face he is none too pleased to see.

“Long time no see. Heard rumors for a while that you were dead. You’ve got quite a few jealous rivals, don’t you?” _Oluo Bozado_. This man never sat well with him. Though considering Oluo nearly snapped him in half the first time they met Jean figured he was wholly justified in his dislike for the man.

“Wouldn’t know—I’ve never met anybody in my field that I considered a rival,” Jean replies, trying to appear cool in this unsettling situation.

Oluo smirks as he ushers him into the lavish home and Jean notes the tight security. Every solider he passes has their guns pointed in his direction, following his every step. One wrong move and he would be torn apart.

“Fair enough, I appreciate a man with a bit of confidence. It keeps things interesting. Don’t underestimate your ability to amuse me Jean, it’s probably why I didn’t kill you the day we met. The guy we’re assigning as your partner, on the other hand, is a complete bore. I tried to make small talk and he kept answering that he just ‘wants to get the job done’. I think the guy is too soft but the boss seems to have his heart set on him. Have fun, it’s going to be a lively year of bonding.”

Jean had learned only after his arrival that he would be appointed a partner during this assignment. No longer than a week ago he awoke to find Oluo standing over him with an expression that could curdle milk, informing him that none other than the head of the Titans himself had requested his expertise on an assignment. Refusal, Oluo made sure to emphasize, would result in his untimely death, which Jean counted as a promise rather than a threat. However it was only yesterday that he finally received the details of this so-called assignment. The first being that he’d have to move to an undisclosed location for the next year or so without any outside communication. Oluo, ever the sly devil, then revised that by adding: ‘Well, except for the partner we’re assigning you’.

_Partner._

Never in his life had he ever considered himself a man in need of somebody backing him up. Jean looked out for number one. He didn’t need anyone to hold his hand. He’d been on his own for so long that the very idea of somebody sharing the responsibility almost struck him as painful. Now it was like the head of the Titan’s–despite requiring his so called ‘expertise’–was questioning his abilities, implying he wasn’t good enough and it’s the one man in the world Jean couldn’t so much as whisper a word against. Everything about the situation sent spikes of anger down his spine even as he tried desperately to keep that temper under control.

“Oh yeah? What’s this guy’s name?”

“Marco Bott. Not somebody you’ve likely heard of, I’m guessing?”

“Doesn’t ring any bells.”

“Didn’t think so,” Oluo replies, shaking his head as his eyes drift across the room in deep-seated thought. “He pulls a lot of jobs in secret, and stays pretty low under the radar. He’s always been adamant about keeping his identity to himself, not one for a good ol’ fashioned reputation. He’s actually been slipping past us for quite a while. This guy’s like a ghost, I tell ya. Even we don’t know much about him. Apparently, he doesn’t have much love for the Titans, killed three of our scouts trying to track him down. I finally caught up with him in Israel last week, made him see things our way in the end.”

Jean fights the part of his brain that’s telling him to reach for his gun to shoot Oluo in the face. He’d be dead in seconds, but the other part of his brain tells him it’d be worth it.

Oluo stops in front of a large black door, opened upon their arrival by the two menacing soldiers guarding it. Jean is ushered into a richly furnished room complete with a roaring fire place. He notes a red chair in front of the blaze, where just the slightest hints of a man can be seen occupying it, facing away from Jean’s direct line of vision. The man in the chair lifts his hand and waves, signalling the guards to close the door behind the two new guests. Jean can feel the power emanating inside this very room and it’s electrifying.

 “Welcome, Jean Kirstein.”

No more than a minute passes before the door bursts open a second time, a fourth person being ushered in. The man in the chair remains seated, undeterred by any sudden arrivals.

“Welcome, Marco Bott.”

Jean’s entire body turns as an instant reaction to his new partner’s name, facing a man a he’d come to resent in the course of a day. What he finds, however, is somewhat surprising. Marco Bott isn’t a gruff, hardened criminal littered with scars. His appearance isn’t intimidating in the least, actually. If the leader of the Titans didn’t ask for his new partner personally Jean would’ve just assumed the man next to him was nothing more than a naïve chump. He was scamming freckled-faced goody-goods like this when he was just thirteen. This guy’s impression takes ‘looks can be deceiving’ to a whole new level. The face simply didn’t match Oluo’s details.

However, Jean Kirstein had a deep understanding that the leader of the Titans didn’t make mistakes. The man sitting in the chair not feet from them, made calculated moves. He’d never taken one step back, only three steps forward. There’s a reason why the Titans left the world cowering in fear and this man was the start of it all.

A hand reaches from the chair to grab the wine glass sitting on a table next to him, exercising his power by letting the two men know they’re on his time. He takes a few sips and a lets a few moments pass before finally speaking. “I’ve brought the two of you here today because you are both renowned far and wide in your field. It is a feat worthy of praise. Where very few others have been able to survive and succeed, you have both managed to stay on top. I commend this determination."

The mysterious figure speaking to them still made no effort to address the two hit men face to face. Jean understood that very few people, outside of the highest ranking members of the Titan’s group, even knew what the leader _looked_ like. His identity was a guarded secret.

“Thank you,” Jean answers, unsure of how he’s supposed to respond in this nerve wracking situation that he never wanted to be a part of in the first place.

His eyes shift over to Marco, watching the man tip his head in a small acknowledgment of the praise, remaining silent. Jean wonders how he can stay so calm with so many guns pointed in their direction (and the most powerful man in the world sitting not a few feet from them). He’s sweating bullets while Marco looks peaceful and at ease.

“The blood on our hands is often times a heavy burden to bear,” the man in the red chair continues. “Over time, men like us will either become callous and hardened, or we will ultimately crumble under the weight of our actions. It’s a thin line to walk, but it brings a sense of control and awareness that no other person on Earth will ever understand. To excel in this ability is to achieve understanding. We must move forward across a path that is littered by debris. We will do what needs to be done.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jean can see just the slightest clench of Marco’s fist.

“I’ve brought the two of you here today for an assignment that’s crucial to the very existence of the Titans. Failure to complete the task at hand will be seen as a direct threat that must be eradicated. Any refusal is seen as admittance to being a part of the resistance. Making any of the information that I’m about to tell you known to anybody outside of this room is also seen as a betrayal, and will lead to a prompt execution. Is that clear?”

This time, both Jean and Marco answer. “Yes, sir.”

“We’ve received intel on where the training camp for the resistance is located,” the man continues nonchalantly.

Jean jolts forward without meaning to, thrown off by the shocking and unhesitant statement. For ten years the Titans have searched for the training camp. Jean, himself, had been sent on plenty of wild assignments in the past, with very little results.

“We successfully infiltrated a team sent to escort new recruits to the base, but the commander soon became suspicious of our spies; and we received information that they were going to be detained after the escort operation. Oluo suggested a diversion tactic to keep the resistance distracted with an attack, so we could successfully track the new recruits back to the training camp. After a bit of consideration, I’ve decided against immediate action in light of what’s happened. Just before they were eradicated, our spies were feeding us info on a possible attack from all fractions of the resistance. Unfortunately, they were killed before we could learn any further details on the matter. This is where the two of you come in. One of you is tied to a high ranking resistance member and this will be used to our advantage.”

Jean’s absolutely certain this isn’t referring to him. For one thing he barely has ties to _anyone_ , let alone a high ranking member of the resistance. This leads to a sideways glance in the direction of his new partner, studying his stunned expression. Marco, in turn, shakes his head and steps forward without thinking, causing the guards to rush towards him. Still, the man doesn’t even flinch.

“Sir, I haven’t talked to Petra Ral since we were children,” Marco protests, clearly thrown off guard from such a demand. “There’s no guarantee she’ll remember me, let alone trust me enough to grant us access to any of their operations.”

On some level, Jean admired Marco’s bravery. Very few had the gall to speak out against a direct order from the leader of the titans. (After all, very few lived to tell the tale.)

“I don’t think I need to remind you the stakes of which your success depends on. You will find a way, or you will regret it, I can promise you that. The two of you will live in a nearby neighborhood and gather intel for as long as it takes. I will send Oluo out on occasion to make sure everything is moving smoothly, so do what you must to gain their trust by any means necessary. Is that clear Marco Bott?”

Marco is a man defeated. The Titans simply have a way of taking the fight out of every man, woman, or child that crossed their path. He doesn’t understand how the resistance still thinks they have a chance. Jean alone felt like a lion cub submitting to the head of his pride, sensing the dominance this frightening voice holds as almost animalistic in nature. He couldn’t imagine facing him as an enemy. It simply wasn't wise to take on the king of beasts.

“I will do my best, sir.”

“You’ll do what you must.”

\----oOo----

 

Eren, for the most part, has endured quite a few embarrassments in his lifetime. Both Ymir and Krista have pointed out, more than once, his complacency and lack of general thinking before rushing into any given situation. He’s never prided himself on his lack of preparation, never claimed he’s merely brazen or unafraid, Eren simply saw it as a work in progress. After all, he figured there were probably worse weaknesses to have than taking action. Anyways, he’d been patient long enough and that had to count for something. After so many years apart how could they ever expect him to contain his excitement?

However, his excitement dies five seconds after his eyes meet Levi’s, somewhere between the realization that there’s also a classroom full of students staring back at him and when two armed guards tackle him to the floor.

He’s not sure if it’s a collective gasp he hears or simply the air leaving his lungs but the one thing he’s absolutely aware of is Levi Labelle’s voice; and nothing else really matters.

“He’s not a threat.” The man remains calm, sighing as if this was something he expected might happen. “He’s just an idiot.”

Eren can feel the pressure being lifted from his back almost immediately, letting his arms fall to his sides from the painful position they had been forced into behind his back. The two guards merely grumble an apology, leaving the teen unsure what else to do at this point in time, painfully aware that he’s currently face down in a room full of curious eyes. He’s unable to lift his head, unable to face the embarrassment and the consequences of his actions despite what Levi taught him as a child and what Mr. Volokov added onto that as he came into adulthood. Eren really hated failing, yet it seemed to happen more than he liked to admit.

“Mr. Labelle, why is there a kid on the floor?” One female student asks, causing the others to snicker. Worst yet, he can hear Ymir, Krista, and Petra among them, probably arriving just in time to see another shining moment in his life go awry.

Levi squats down before the boy, and Eren can’t help but lift his head up as an immediate reaction. So many things remained the same from his memories. Levi still wore the same cologne, still used the same pine scented body wash that Eren detested as a child and he still has the same haircut from all those years ago. He never doubted any of these things would change. Levi had always been a man of innate order, a creature of habit. As long as the situation permitted it he’d shower twice a day, get his hair cut once a month and brush after every single meal (and that last part definitely had to be true, Eren could smell his minty fresh breath as the man leaned in to say something to the boy on the floor).

“Tch. I’d been told that your inveterate need to face life without patience was a problem, but I had no idea it was this bad,” Levi says, his words dripping with utter disdain. “You better take this as your first lesson, brat, because it’s only going to get harder from here on out.”

All of this sounded as if it should insult him, or at the very least, limit his excitement but Levi’s here and he’s holding his hand out to Eren as a gesture, as a way of saying he’d never been abandoned. That’s all it takes to let him know everything would be fine.

Nothing in Eren’s life ever stayed the same. People came and went, settings changed at a moment’s notice and not a single thing in his life ever brought about predictability. Today he’d simply grab the hand in front of him and get to his feet, facing the new present unfolding around him.

Petra is the first one to make a move, stepping out into the light filtering through the large classroom windows. The scarred half of her face tightens as she smiles at the group of students, causing a collective excitement to fill the room as everybody begins to welcome her back. She motions for Ymir and Krista to step forward and stand beside Eren, each looking bashful and unsure.

Petra then addresses the students. “As some of you may know, I left last week on the orders of Commander Smith and Mr. Labelle to retrieve three new recruits. These three will be your newest classmates: Ymir, Krista, and Eren. I hope all of you treat them well and make them feel welcome.”

Ymir rolls her eyes, Krista looks away in embarrassment and Eren picks his hand up to wave and offer a sheepish grin, only to realize far too late that his hand is still clutching Levi’s.

The three of them have a long way to go.

Towards the back of the classroom a female student suddenly stands up, looking over at Eren as if she had something to say. Her grey eyes bore into him for a few seconds before sitting back down just as suddenly. Her fingers reach up to clutch at the red scarf around her neck and Eren recognizes the demure girl as Mikasa Ackerman. She used to live with Eren and Levi back in Germany, along with the boy sitting directly next to her. A multitude of memories flood his brain; being surrounded by Levi, Petra, Armin and Mikasa–all of the faces that had dimmed over the years even as he tried desperately to cling to them and keep them alive–made his ten years spent in the harsh isolation of Siberia feel like nothing more than a dream that had finally come to pass. The warmth from the sun filtering in through the windows gave him a sense of belonging.

Levi finally pulls away from Eren’s hold on his hand, looking back at the boy with an unreadable expression before grabbing some hand sanitizer. His body is rigid and his mannerisms are harshly controlled, leading Eren to believe he commanded power while instructing and anything less didn’t agree with his standards. He briefly wondered how these last ten years changed the man in front of him.

“Now that you’ve all been introduced, I think it’s the appropriate time to establish the set of rules that all of the students are expected to follow. Here, we don’t have detention, we don’t have quiet time and you won’t be expected to stand in a corner. We have drills.”

“Is this really necessary on their first day?” Petra asks, her tone of voice clearly displaying her disdain and disapproval for Levi’s dramatics.

His eyes swiftly turn to Eren. “Apparently so.”

There’s been more than a few times in his short life that Eren has seen this expression directed towards him, usually just before Mr. Volokov scolded him for pulling some stunt that resulted in yet another injury. The boy was simply a train that couldn’t stop chugging along as he obstinately followed the tracks, and every so often that train would derail.

“Eren Jaeger will be a clear example to our other two new recruits and a reminder to the rest of you that this isn’t summer camp. I want you to drop and do twenty push ups, Jaeger. _Now_ ,” Levi orders, giving no indication that he was joking in the least.

Eren protests without thinking, never expecting his first day to turn out like this. “But Levi—”

“Here you will address me as Mr. Labelle or Master Labelle. You’re a student here and I’m your teacher. Those twenty push-ups have now just increased to thirty.”

“But—”

“You must really like punishing yourself,” he concludes, running a hand through his hair in an irritated manner. “Okay, those thirty push-ups have now turned into fifty laps around the track that you’ve yet to even be shown. I’m sure Ms. Ral would be more than happy to show you the way.”

Eren resigns himself to defeat. However he pictured this moment, his current situation is the reality. Levi is his teacher, not his friend. It’s just something he’ll have to get used to. He’s not allowed to romanticize this situation or cling onto the past, not anymore. Eren Jaeger is here to learn how to fight. He’s here to learn how to keep the people around him safe and he absolutely refuses to let what happened back at their home in Siberia ever happen again. Next time he’d be ready.

Mikasa Ackerman shoots up from her seat once again, clutching even tighter at her red scarf as she finally speaks her mind. “Master Labelle, I willingly volunteer to run those laps with Eren as a show of good faith for a new student.”

Beside her, Armin Arlert rises to his feet as well, following Mikasa’s lead without much thought for himself. “I also volunteer to run those laps with Eren!”

Levi glances between Eren and the two volunteers, only bothering to arch one eyebrow with intrigue, probably not used to just one student eliciting such a reaction from his fellow classmates, especially one that’s only been inside of this school all of five minutes. Eren’s unable to read whether or not his new teacher is annoyed or impressed, taking his small, dismissive wave as somewhere in the middle.

“Be my guest. Just don’t go crying to me later when the two of you need to be carried back to the mess hall.”

Mikasa and Armin both nod, lurching forward to join their old friend in hell, ignoring the students around them that couldn’t believe anybody would willingly put themselves through that kind of misery. Krista almost steps forward to join them and Ymir all but rushes to cover her mouth, rapidly questioning the girl’s sanity. Eren merely smiles, letting them know he’d rather they had a more peaceful first day while getting acquainted with their fellow classmates. Back home there were few kids their own age and none of them understood the powers they possessed, or the heavy burden they bear. It’d be good for the two of them to feel a part of something for once.

“Eren, I can’t believe how long it’s been!” the blond gushes, grinning from ear to ear.

Armin’s elation is evident. Mikasa, on the other hand, remains her usual self, resigned to a warm smile nearly hidden by her scarf.

He remembers long winter days spent in the snow and the cold nights spent huddled up by the fire. He remembers Petra teaching Mikasa how to make good German cuisine and he remembers Armin running through his favorite room in their home, the library, excitedly showing Eren each book he adored. He would always have a place for both Ymir and Krista after all of the years they spent together in near isolation, but Mikasa and Armin would always be the first two friends he’d ever made and he’s happy about that.

Eren turns to them and sighs, “You two didn’t have to volunteer. I would’ve been fine on my own.”

To this Mikasa actually surprises Eren by enveloping him in a hug, letting her relief slip through as her fingers clutch at the back of his shirt. “If you’re fighting, we’re fighting with you.”

 

\----oOo----

 

The three of them run their last couple laps towards the sun as it dips further and further into the Earth. Being the least practiced out of the group, Eren ended up trailing behind his friends when his legs began to give up, no longer listening to the motivation Petra was giving from the sidelines. After years spent in below freezing temperatures, the boy had trouble adapting to the dry heat surrounding him, feeling his breaths come out in small, painful puffs as his chest restricts and aches. About forty laps in he all but collapses, saving himself only by the last second decision to cease his pace and come to a slow walk.

“Eren?” Petra calls, her face wrinkled with worry as she assesses the boy struggling to catch his breath. “Do you want me to get you some water?”

Eren shakes his head, not wanting to admit defeat. “I’m fine!”

Mikasa and Armin also start to sense his dwindling energy as they turn back to walk beside him. Eren almost feels frustrated with himself, even considering it’s only his first day, because he didn’t think he’d be so far behind his classmates in physical training. They probably endured this kind of workout with ease on a weekly basis and he couldn’t even finish without collapsing.

Eren wipes the sweat from his brow, determined to live up to Levi’s demands, to make up whatever time he had lost to his classmates and then some. That’s what his mind is repeating over and over; his body on the other hand, is not so willing. The boy sways before he can even get back into a jog, having to be caught by his two running-mates in just the nick of time.

“Eren, take it easy,” Mikasa tells him, gesturing for Armin to help her support Eren’s weight. “You can’t sprint all fifty laps. You need to pace yourself or you’ll end up in the infirmary.”

“If you two can do it, I can do it, too.”

Armin shakes his head, offering a small smile, letting him know they didn’t judge him for his faults. He didn’t need to put on an act.

“Mikasa and I have been here for almost a year now. We’ve already experienced these kinds of drills before; and, yeah, they kind of suck. You should’ve seen this one time when our friend Sasha was caught eating chips during Mr. Labelle’s class. She wasn’t even able to come to class for a week. Instead, he made us all sit outside and watch her as she ran drills each day. It was pretty brutal.”

Eren wondered if the years have twisted his memories of Levi. The man was never a saint and he’d always been strict with Eren, but he was never out right cruel.

“So he’s always like this?” he asks, running a hand through his sweaty hair as he struggles to catch his breath.

“For as long as we’ve been here, his attitude has stayed the same. We’ve never even seen him smile. Most of the students are kind of afraid of him, actually. Whenever I mention that Mikasa and I used to live with him for a while, everybody bombards us with questions, as if we know his true personality outside of class. There are all kinds of rumors floating around about Levi’s past, and I always get people coming up to me or Mikasa, asking if it’s true. It’s at those times that I realize that I really don’t know anything about, um, Mr. Labelle.” Armin corrects his earlier use of Levi’s first name, realizing he had to keep that in check or the next laps they run won’t be ones they volunteer for. “You probably know more than both Mikasa and I combined, anyways.”

Eren is finally breathing steadily through his nose as they finish up their last few laps.

“About Levi’s past?”

He looks off to the sun hanging low in the dimming sky, not commenting for a long while as Armin and Mikasa both remain silent. His head turns just the slightest to find Levi’s figure standing behind one of the second story windows, looking down on the three struggling students with his ever present signature expression, devoid of any clear emotion. Eren has to quickly look away, almost shaken by the callous man, wondering when exactly it was that Levi’s eyes had gone silent, sucking all of the emotion out of his every movement. It almost made him feel sick to his stomach.

“Not a thing,” Eren breaths.

“That’s too bad.” Armin frowns. “I’ve always been slightly curious, myself. He’s just so hard to read, y’know?”

Eren quickly glances back at the window once again, finding the space now empty and devoid of Levi’s presence. “I know.”

Both Mikasa and Armin have to practically drag Eren to finish the last lap, each student panting, letting their aching bodies fall back onto the grassy athletic field when it’s finally over, riddled with exhaustion. Petra walks over to sit beside the trio, handing them much needed bottles of water with a tired smile on her face.

“You know, I’m really proud of the three of you.”

Armin gulps down his water, looking up at Petra in a chiding manner, not happy with her misplaced praise. Once he regains his breath, and the water bottle is nearly empty, he pushes the sweaty blond hairs from his forehead. “I only did this for Eren. Mr. Labelle is the devil incarnate.”

Petra leans in to help brush more hair behind his ears in a motherly sort of way, also taking the time to reach her other hand out to pull the red scarf out of Mikasa’s hands (which she refused to leave back in the classroom, despite the heat), folding it into a neat square, and carefully placing it onto the grass beside her.

“I’ve always trusted Levi’s judgment. He may seem harsh but he really cares deeply for all of his students, especially the three of you. He just wants to make sure you’re as prepared as possible for what’s out there and I feel the same way.”

Eren and Mikasa lie back onto the grass, staring up at the sky as it slowly slips into twilight. Armin scoots his body over so he can lie his head on Petra’s lap, letting her comb her long fingers through his hair, despite its apparent state of disarray after running fifty laps. It’s something she used to do when he was a child, something that always stuck with him in these rare moments of contentment, it seemed. Eren would look over at Armin and see the same smile from when they were kids. The blond sighs and laughs a little, probably comparing his two childhood caretakers and how much they truly differed.

“You’re kind, Petra,” Armin concludes.

“Feels like a family reunion, huh? Now all we need is Levi to come stand over us with a frown, and it’ll really feel like back then. Also, some delicious German cuisine.”

“I’m lacking in that last part. Sorry.”

Eren immediately scrambles to his feet, startled out of his dream-like state by the sudden presence of the sharp eyed man standing over them. He stands up so quickly, in fact, that Eren fumbles, forgetting about his weak state as his knees buckle and he does yet another spectacular face plant. This must be a new record.

Dripping with sarcasm, Levi drawls, “It seems that you’ve neglected your energy and have instead mastered the art of falling, Eren Jaeger.” His tone of voice is firm, towering over the boy with a power that Eren didn’t quite understand.

Both Armin and Mikasa get to their feet to help their friend off the ground. Mikasa even openly glares at her teacher as she does so, challenging his brash and callous authority, to the point that Petra had to intervene before the younger girl earned herself some more laps for saying something she may regret later.

“Master Labelle, to what do we owe the pleasure?” the girl asks, sensing the tense atmosphere and pushing straight to the point.

“I’ve come to tell you that Commander Smith has woken up and he’s been asking for you.”

Petra jolts forward with alacrity, noticeably pleased with just that one sentence. Eren has never seen the woman smile so brightly in his life. After the accident that left half her face scarred her smiles have always been small and guarded, containing all of her warmth but none of her elation, like a beautiful flower that refused to bloom. He couldn’t help but smile along with her, watching as she’s the last to scramble to her feet, running back towards the entrance of the school as she belatedly waves over her shoulder.

“You guys should get some dinner! I’ll see you in class tomorrow!”

“I wonder what that was all about,” Armin remarks, watching as Petra’s retreating figure disappears inside of the main building.

Levi eyes the three individuals but declines to comment. His gaze lingers on Eren’s grass covered form for a heartbeat longer than the other two, the dark depths of his eyes saying something the boy couldn’t quite read. Whatever it was he intended to say, his teacher didn’t let it slip from his mouth, choosing instead to turn on his heel and start walking back, only bothering to reiterate Petra’s suggestion without looking back.

“You three really should get something to eat.”

And that’s it. No job well done or pat on the shoulder. Levi doesn’t even acknowledge that he may have been a tad bit too hard on Eren, never bothering to take into consideration that it’s only his first day. It’s one thing to let actions speak louder than words, but Levi simply didn’t let _anything_ speak. Everything about him is guarded and his words go without explanation, to the point that Eren was actually beginning to feel frustrated. Levi Labelle was an enigma.

The boy looks to his friends, as if silently conveying what he wanted to do next. Mikasa nods, picking up her scarf off the ground to once again wrap it around her neck, clinging to it without much thought.

“We’ll meet you later,” the girl assures and that’s all the permission he needs.

Eren smiles, running off to catch up to Levi as the man makes his way towards a different entrance into the school than the one Petra had taken. He knows Eren is there, walking closely behind him but doesn’t bother to look back. They both stay silent, Eren simply taking this opportunity to study the man in front of him without any prying eyes. Levi’s shorter than Eren remembers, or maybe it’s him that’s grown a lot taller than expected, surpassing the man’s height by more than a few inches. Either way he’s no longer looking up at Levi, finally meeting (somewhat) eye to eye with the man, no longer a child that needs protecting.

When they’re both back inside the school Eren continues to follow, wondering if the man will ever say anything to him, or if he’ll lead Eren all the way to the bathroom before slamming the door in his face like he’s some pervert. “Levi, why won’t you at least talk to me?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. You’re _lucky_ I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear something that I just made you run fifty laps for. It’s Mr Labelle or Master Labelle, Jaeger. I might have been your caretaker in the past, but now I’m your _teacher_ ,” the man hisses, clearly hoping that it will finally stick in his student’s mind.

“It’s Eren. My name is Eren, not ‘Jaeger’, _Mr. Labelle_.”

Levi scoffs. “Sheesh, such a needy child. You’re giving me a headache.”

“I’m not a child!”

Both Levi and Eren stop in their tracks simultaneously, sensing the change in atmosphere. Passing students scurry by, glancing back with interest as Eren takes on a challenging stance. Levi, though slightly surprised by his outburst, looks mostly unperturbed, forcing Eren into further embarrassment as the man faces him like a parent scolding an unruly toddler.

“Maybe you’re not a child,” Levi tells him, “but you sure are acting like one.”

“I just…” Eren says, defeated and drained, both physically and mentally. “When I imagined seeing you again, I imagined you being… _happier_.”

Levi glances away, still completely guarded, especially with the audience of students peering around the corner.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” It’s clear that this is all Eren will get on the matter, no bear hug or tears of joy. No happy reunion to any degree. Levi will simply acknowledge his existence to the very lowest extent and he’ll just have to be happy about that. “Now, your room is down this hallway, the last door on your left. The men’s showers are the first door on your right. I’d take one now if I were you, because you smell like you really need one.”

Levi turns to leave, causing Eren to grab his wrist instinctively, not wanting to end the conversation on an insult. “Are—are you staying in one of the rooms down this hallway?”

Levi eyes him, pulling his wrist away. “The teachers stay on the second floor, and the students stay down here.” And there it is, the unspoken words that Levi danced around, avoiding a repeat of the hurt expression on Eren’s face. Though he towered over Levi, Eren’s never felt so small. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow, Jaeger.”

The on-looking students disperse, fearing retaliation from their nearly sadistic teacher were he to suddenly take their presence into consideration. Eren’s once massive appetite takes a drastic turn, disappearing almost immediately as he can no longer stand the idea of spending dinner surrounded by people.

Funny, considering how much he hated the silence back in his village, how he always longed for adventure and to meet new people, and see new parts of the world. Now, he longed for that small bubble, feeling so alone and unsure in his unfamiliar surroundings. He didn’t even have the slightest clue as to where Ymir and Krista had run off to, not seeing them since being made to run laps and that made him feel even more exposed.

He quickly decides to opt out of dinner, not wanting to be bombarded with questions about Levi, not yet ready to become acquainted with his new classmates. Instead he trudges off to the showers, away from prying eyes, and lets the sweat wash away from his body as he stands under the spray. His legs are wobbly from exhaustion, skin burned bright red from the sun. He’s a mess, his mind is a mess, and everything about this day is a mess. All he can do now is wash everything away and keep himself from falling back, determined to make tomorrow a much more promising venture.

Eren Jaeger stumbles from the showers into his new bedroom, falling onto his bed with a sigh before wrapping the covers around his aching body. He knows tomorrow has to be better, because it couldn’t possibly be any worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long absence. I would bore you with the story if I had the time, but to make a long story short, I’m currently broke and living in a motel with two other people. I get very little peace and quiet so bear with me if this isn’t quite my best. Good news is I’m diving head first into into writing as much as I can for the AoT fandom this summer. Thank you to my lovely beta Naomi for agreeing to look over my fanfics at the last minute for whatever crazy update schedule I try to cling to. This chapter is only great because she made it that way. 
> 
> I thrive on feedback. Let me know what the few of you out there think so far!

**Author's Note:**

> I’d just like to say that this story is completely AU and will not bring forth any spoilers from the manga. Actually, I’ve yet to read the actual manga, so bear with me on my characterization and feel free to call me out if I get too OOC on anybody. I’ve done a lot of research on breakdowns of each character and their personalities, so hopefully I get a couple things right while writing this. :) 
> 
> Also, I’d just like to put emphasis on the fact that EVERYTHING WILL MAKE SENSE IN TIME. After reading this I’m sure a few people out there are scratching their heads a bit, but I will be going into further explanation as the story progresses (that’s sort of how writing works). Jean and Marco will be MAJOR secondary characters. There will be dual storylines (maybe even more) going on. If you don’t like this pairing or these characters in general, then I suggest reading a different story. There will be much more than ereri going on. There’ll be quite a bit to process as I harness a mishmash of ideas. It’s sort of like one part AoT, one part A:TLA, one part Star Wars, one part teacher/student kink, one part Pulp Fiction assassins, and much, much more to come.
> 
> P.S. I know there’s a lot of confusion surrounding the character’s names, but I’m writing them based on how their wiki pages spell their names (except for Eren's last name, which I prefer to keep the same). I’ve also added last names to the characters that don’t seem to have ones as of yet.
> 
>  
> 
> Cheers.


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